ll, too, upon the prospector's face, and had not the young
couple been so full of their own happiness they would have noticed the
sad, far-away look in the old man's eyes. He was huddled in his chair,
but straightened himself suddenly up at the first sound of approaching
footsteps. By the time the young people were at his side, he was the
same genial companion as of old.

"Having pleasant dreams?" Glen asked, as she took a seat by his side,
while Reynolds sat opposite.

"Evenin' dreams, Miss," Samson thoughtfully replied, as he looked into
the girl's bright, animated face, and intuitively divined the meaning
of her happiness. "They're different from day-dreams, ye know,
'specially when yer settin' before a fire like this. Things come to ye
then which ye imagined ye had forgotten long ago."

"You must have had some wonderful experiences in this land," Reynolds
remarked. "And what scenes you have witnessed, especially in winter.
If only you were an artist or a poet, what masterpieces you could
produce."

Samson reached for his pipe, filled and lighted it in thoughtful
silence. Glen and Reynolds gazed into the fire, fascinated by the
leaping, curling flames. Their hearts were so filled with joy that
they could think of little but their own overflowing happiness.

"Yes," Samson at length began, "I have seen some wonderful sights, an'
no mistake. I ain't no artist nor poet as fer as puttin' things on
paper or canvas is consarned. But it's all here," and he tapped his
breast with the fingers of his right hand. "When I hear the great
mountains a-roarin' at night when the wind is abroad, an' at times
listen to the breezes purrin' down their sides, I tell ye I'm a poet
then. An' at night, 'specially in winter, when the moon is full an'
ridin' aloft above the highest peaks, an' the hull land is lit up with
a wonderful glory, then I'm an artist. I s'pose them things are all
right in their way," and the old man gave a deep sigh, as he looked
wistfully into the fire. "But they don't altogether satisfy the soul.
One needs the touch of human nature, the bond of fellowship, an' the
warm fire of love to make life really worth livin'. Now, I could tell
ye about a man--but thar, you two don't want to hear a yarn from me
to-night. You've got other things to think about."

"Indeed we do," Glen declared. "I'm just in a mood for a story. It
will help to pass the time until daddy returns. I wonder what in the
world is